I'm sad to have to admit to the above comment. I really wish I could say I'm a die hard commuter who only rides a bike to and from work, the grocery store, the trails, and the doctors for my weekly EPO boosts. But alas, I work 30 miles from home, I've only ridden to the grocery store a few times, trails always seem to far away, and that last bit about the doctors visits are completly false. I'm way not that cool...
So yesterday I figured I'd ride to Booneville via the Katy, and then force myself to ride back in this morning. Force being the key word. Getting me up early is about as tough as trying to be a roadie who isn't a true dick. It's tough no doubt.
But forced up in the cover of darkness, I slithered out from the covers, fed my face with some oatmeal, peanut butter, and honey, and then headed out the front door.
I got to work pushing pedals at 7 in the morning, with only 40 miles standing between me and my destination (work). I didn't stop to take any sweet pics, or to meditate and think about life's complex mysteries. No... I put my head down and suffered. I had to be at work damnit, and I didn't have time for the small pleasures of the ride.
I made it to my car which was parked at work just a few short hours later. I was a little behind but I still had time to clean up, change, and grab some Wendy's pick me up by 9:30.
I like that. I feel almost like a true cyclist. I can now say I commute. Because once I start, it's hard to get me to stop. And I can see myself deep in the pain cave at 8am on the Katy plenty more times in the future.
Cross practice tonight, then the Pirate ride from SPDIDDYBURNS casa.
Let the legs learn...